If We Listen

Tags

fantasy, love, personal, romance, spirit, spiritual

 

A wraith was writhing in the air,
its undulating shape so fair;
just like a woman slim and tall —
I followed with no fear at all.

Drifting, she led me through the trees
under branches, upon my knees,
until I found myself quite lost —
my folly gained, but at what cost?

I sat upon a log and thought
of this misfortune I had wrought —
from the mist, to my surprise,
a female form materialized.

A lithesome beauty, to be sure,
approached me with a gaze so pure.
I sat transfixed, afraid to move
expecting that this shape would prove,

perhaps, to be a daylight dream,
evanescent, not what it seemed —
a vision that would fade from sight
as quickly as a beam of light.

Yet, she remained and held my hand,
explained, so I could understand —
the holy earth is our Mother,
the deer and trees are our brothers.

Everyone shares a common root
though each produces different fruit.
Our Mother Earth gives birth to all —
the things that walk, fly, swim and crawl.

This planet is here for us to use
to grow our crops, not to abuse.
Winds and rains and things that glisten
each have stories if we listen.

 

 

Sample my books for free — To date, $1945.00 has been donated to the homeless:

Gotta Find a Home: Conversations with Street People
http://buff.ly/1SGzGCY ($2.99 Download)
http://buff.ly/1qLHptc ($2.99 Download)
https://buff.ly/2lUfp6Q ($2.99 Download)
https://buff.ly/2Gkoyxj ($2.99 Download)

They Call Me Red:
https://buff.ly/2GJSDsG ($2.99 Download)

Private Eye: Eugene Leftowicz
https://buff.ly/3kP2pMZ ($2.99 Download)

Podcasts:
http://buff.ly/1Pxlf9p
http://www.blunttalk.libsyn.com/
http://buff.ly/1XU368M
http://buff.ly/2iYvOE4
http://buff.ly/2jdjZd6

 

disappeared

Tags

angel wings, compassion, desolation, desperation, destiny, everlasting, forever, spirit, spiritual, unconditional love, vision

 
 
as the sun
played with the leaves
in the cool afternoon breeze
i heard your giggle
saw your smiling spirit face
peeking from behind
a clump of trees.

disappointed,
because i hadn’t
the freedom to follow you,
i sighed and waited for nightfall.
as the jealous moon
stole through my window
a devil in a flannel gown
visited my bed.

we snuggled
throughout the night.
my mouth nuzzled your neck.
your skin tasted
of our favorite perfume,
wood smoke and cedar.
i murmured words of love
as I held you tight.
you disappeared
with the dawn’s
early light.
 
 
 
Read about my friends here  http://buff.ly/1wyjiKS

.

 

Name(required)

Email(required)

Website

Comment(required)

Submit

Δ

Banshee

Tags

Banshee, Crying, death, despair, desperation, destiny, emotion, eternal, fear, folk tales, forever, Grief Loss and Bereavement, imagination, Irish mythology, lifetimes, loss, lost love, mystery, sighs, spirit

In Irish legend, a banshee wails around a house where someone is about to die.

…

Brittle bones rattle and shake,
shadow me through the windy woods.
Shiver, quiver, quail and quake.
I’d forsake my worldly goods
if I thought they would suffice.
Keening cries of the banshee
penetrate like spears of ice.
Her cloak of gray, I cannot see —

Clammy presence proves she’s here.
From her curse I cannot flee;
I must face my deadly fear.
Death of kin hails the banshee.
Is it Mother, Father, Son?
On my neck her icy breath.
My sanctuary comes undone —
journey’s end will find a death.

Nearing home I hear the wailing,
sobbing, crying, clothes are rent.
Hair is pulled, arms are flailing —
heartbreak, tears are almost spent.
How to comfort, what to say?
Grieving knows no tomorrow.
How to live another day?
Stagger on, bear the sorrow.

Silent now, sits the banshee,
hooded, faceless, cloaked in gray,
spirit that we cannot see.
Pray her presence stays away.
More than that we cannot ask
as each footstep nears the grave,
toil at every weary task;
life is meant to spend not save.

Soon enough will come the time
when others wail, sob and cry.
Drums beat slowly, church bells chime;
it will be my time to die.
Hooded, faceless, cloaked in gray
the spirit wails right on cue,
as she will some future day —
when the banshee wails for you.

Nature Man

Tags

compassion, despair, desperation, destiny, emotion, empathy, empowerment, homeless, kindness, loneliness, love, loving kindness, mankind, mystery, personal, philosophy, spirit, spiritual, support, unconditional love

.

There was a man,
a very sad and mournful man.
He cried in pain,
cried in grief,
screamed beyond the night.

There was a voice,
a sympathetic angel’s voice.
She spoke to him
spoke of love
to melt his frozen heart.

She showed him love,
a world of love beyond his own.
He could give love,
could give help
to those who have no home.

There’s now a man,
a grateful and contented man,
who shares his food
shares his time
for love, its own reward.

.

The Light

Tags

afterlife, Budhhism, death, eternity, forever, joy, near death experience, religion, soul, spirit, spiritual, transcendence, unconditional love

I look toward the light;
not of summer
or the dawn.

I walk toward the light;
not of evenings
or of noon.

I fly toward the light,
light everlasting
comes from me.

I’m united with the light
as one eternal,
as one free.

If We Listen

Tags

fantasy, love, personal, romance, spirit, spiritual

A wraith was writhing in the air,
its undulating shape so fair;
just like a woman slim and tall —
I followed with no fear at all.

Drifting, she led me through the trees
under branches, upon my knees,
until I found myself quite lost —
my folly gained, but at what cost?

I sat upon a log and thought
of this misfortune I had wrought —
from the mist, to my surprise,
a female form materialized.

A lithesome beauty, to be sure,
approached me with a gaze so pure.
I sat transfixed, afraid to move
expecting that this shape would prove,

perhaps, to be a daylight dream,
evanescent, not what it seemed —
a vision that would fade from sight
as quickly as a beam of light.

Yet, she remained and held my hand,
explained, so I could understand —
the holy earth is our Mother,
the deer and trees are our brothers.

Everyone shares a common root
though each produces different fruit.
Our Mother Earth gives birth to all —
the things that walk, fly, swim and crawl.

This planet here for us to use
to grow our crops, not to abuse.
Winds and rains and things that glisten
each have stories if we listen.

 
 

Image by Cher Lyn:  http://ow.ly/P2GaT

Read about my friends here  http://buff.ly/1wyjiKS

.